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My eyes look to Dean.
“Obviously, we have a way to go until little one can be delivered, so in the meantime, it would mean regular blood pressure checks for any abnormal increases, regular urine samples as well as extra scans. We would also electronicallycheck the baby’s heart rate to ensure little one isn’t getting distressed.”
No treatment. That’s what the morbid part of my brain clings on to. Not that actually my baby is healthy and that I’d be well looked after. Hot tears are prickling my eyes. I’m relieved that it’s not something more serious, but I feel trepidation, because of course, something had to challenge us.
It couldn’t just be simple.
“Now, there is one more matter,” she says, angling the monitor towards her. “Are we wanting to know the sex of the baby today?”
I’d completely forgotten about finding out the sex.
Up until this morning, I was excited to know. Dean was happy to wait; confident he already knew it was a girl, but maybe now he’llwantto know? Maybe now he’ll feel as though he has no control over the situation? I mean, he really doesn’t, but what can we do here? The only thing we can do right now, is find out if we’re having a little boy, or a little girl.
Problem is, I no longer want to know. It seems irrelevant. My only thought now is making sure I do whatever I’m told to keep my baby healthy. “Um,” I say hesitantly. I look up to Dean not knowing what to say.
His eyes are watching the monitor again; a still image that the sonographer had taken for her measurements, sits on the screen. “Can I see the baby again?”
With a smile, she applies more cool gel to my stomach. All three of us watch the monitor with wide open eyes. “There,” she coos, pointing her index finger at the screen.
The baby wriggles and jerks in a funny little motion. I really can’t help but smile. He or she looks so happy, not a care in the world just floating around inside me. A tiny arm hits out, knocking against their head. I laugh under my breath.
I watch the tiny feet kick and wiggle. I want to reach in andkiss them. I want to count each toe and hold them. Boy or girl, the love I feel in my bones won’t change. It already reaches higher than the stars, pure and unfaded, not forced or faked.
Wiping the corner of my eye, I look up at Dean. He’s not watching the screen. His green eyes are only watching me. Doing a double take, my tears instantly spill over.
His head drops to one side slightly, my hand that he held at the start, still firm in his grasp. “Babe.”
I wipe away a tear tickling my chin, our eyes still connected to one another. A few seconds that feel like hours pass between us.
Dean looks to the sonographer. “Would you write down the sex of the baby for us?”
She smiles nodding her head, then slides her stool back to a drawer.
“You still don’t want to know?” I ask, relieved it no longer matters, but anxious he might be just saying it to please me.
“I already know, babe.”
I smile and rest my head back, breathing out the longest breath. My bottom lip wobbles.
Dean’s lips push to mine, and I’m so grateful that he knew what I’d want.
“Here.” The lady holds out a folded piece of paper.
Dean pulls away from me and takes it, thanking her. He pulls out his wallet from the back pocket of his jeans, then tucks the paper away before putting his wallet back. “I’ll print you some pictures for you to keep. Take a seat in the waiting room. You’ll be called for your blood test once the nurse is free.”
“Thank you,” I say.
She tears the strip of photos from the machine and hands it to me.
I smile and hold them tight as Dean walks to the door, holding it open.
As we wait, Dean snakes his arm around me, tucking me in close. “You, okay?” he asks.
“I will be,” I say hesitantly. “Won’t I?”
He lets out a small breath with a smile. “I know you will. You happen to be the toughest woman I know, remember?” His hand squeezes me tighter. “Plus, you have me.”
“I know.” I look down at the photos in in my hand, my thumb lightly caressing the image. When I look up, I see Dean’s lips are pinched, his eyes narrow. “And you’ve got me.”
